


Light Up My Room

by swtalmnd



Series: Project Monster [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Christmas Fluff, First Time, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-26
Updated: 2016-02-26
Packaged: 2018-05-23 06:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6108604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/pseuds/swtalmnd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At Christmas, the world is lit up from top to bottom, which suits Q just fine -- he's afraid of the dark. Bond is one of the things that hides in the shadows.</p><p>Or, the one in which Q gets a pet flying monkey and his own live-in monster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light Up My Room

Q loved the winter holidays, not just because of the treats and gifts, but because of the light. There were lights everywhere in December, strings and strands of them, sculptures and icicles of them, white and multicoloured and made into pictures. The shadows proliferated, too, but at the same time there was always another bulb lit up when one went out, another point of light piercing the darkness.

Q knew he was too old to be afraid of the dark, so he pretended he wasn't. He told everyone at work he had terrible low-light vision when they asked why Q-branch was kept brightly lit at all hours of day or night. At home, there was no one but him and his cats so he put a night light in every outlet, and he installed motion sensors in all the rooms so light followed him wherever he went. Sometimes it followed the cats, too, but he never much minded that.

He only minded the darkness.

When Q had been a boy, long before he'd been Q, he'd watched and hidden as something came out of the dark, shattered the last light bulb, and took his parents away from him forever.

Q's bedroom was festooned with fairy lights year round, swirls and constellations of them, powered with batteries and on surge protectors and by solar cells. He used to despair of the sex life he'd never have, unable to sleep in the darkness of someone else's room and unwilling to turn off the lights in his own, but he'd given it up as less necessary than staying safe and alive. He had an extensive toy collection, several anonymised porn-site accounts, and he had his own two hands. Q told himself that was all he needed, but sometimes even the cats weren't enough to keep him from wishing for someone to hold him at night, when the darkness pressed in on all sides, trying to sneak its way into his sanctuary of light.

Thus, Q loved Christmas. He loved that, given permission to decorate Q-branch, his minions let out their inner geeks and festooned every nook and cranny with LEDs. He loved the excuse to add even more lights to his own office, and wondered how long he could put off taking them down, once the year turned and winter really took hold.

What he hadn't counted on was James Bond loving the lights, too.

"It's beautiful in here," said 007, sauntering into Q's office as though it was his own. He made a beeline for Q's favourite new decoration, a fibre optic tree that not only glowed but threw lights all over the room, warm spots of colour that danced the shadows away. "This is amazing. Did you build it?"

"eBay, I'm afraid," said Q, preening over the compliments, though he couldn't resist adding, "I've quite a few other things to build in my limited time, especially since you keep destroying every prototype I give you."

"I brought you something back," said Bond, depositing a package under the tree. "Though it's perhaps not what you were hoping for."

Q laughed. "Of course not, you'd never do anything so simple," said Q, admiring the way Bond's well-cut trousers fit his arse as he bent over to position his present among the others. "I take it I'm to wait until Christmas to unwrap you. It. Your gift?"

Bond straightened up and gave Q a very warm look indeed. "Were you hoping to unwrap me sooner, Q?" he asked, moving aggressively into Q's space. "Or should I be the one unwrapping you? You'd be quite the gift."

"Don't you mean notch?" said Q, moving back until he ran into the edge of his work table. "I don't do casual, Bond, and that's all you do."

Bond chuckled wickedly, face on a level with Q's, not quite pressed against Q all along the length of their bodies. "Not going to protest you're a boy?"

"I've read your file," said Q, unimpressed. "You're flexible when you want to be."

"And just how flexible can you be, Q?" asked Bond, breath ghosting over Q's mouth in a promise of a kiss.

Q saw a shadow move out of the corner of his eye, and the tension in him switched from building heat to cold terror like he'd stepped on a live wire. Bond picked up on it immediately and turned, body pressed to Q's not sensually but as a shield, living meat between Q and whatever had startled him.

It moved again, and Q laughed weakly, burying his embarrassed face between Bond's broad shoulders. "It was just the, the vent coming on, it moves the tree sometimes."

Bond relaxed, turning with a quizzical look on his face. "Are you under threat, Q?"

Q sighed and shook his head. "I'm a bit paranoid of movement in the shadows, which is generally a healthy outlook for someone in our line of work," he said tartly, trying to ignore his burning cheeks. He stepped sideways, further breaking the moment and defusing their earlier flirtation. "Was there anything else, 007?"

Bond's expression turned calculating, and then the charming grin was back. "Let me take you out for a Christmas drink?" he asked, catching up Q's hand, strong fingers caressing the palm. "After work, of course."

"I don't like public spaces," said Q. "And no, I'm still not under threat."

Bond nodded, fingers ghosting over Q's pulse before retreating, leaving his hand annoyingly cold in their wake. "Well, I'll have to find some private way to woo you, then, if you want to unwrap me before Christmas."

Q could already envision the oceans of regret he'd have from that one slip of the tongue, and he sighed. "Don't you have paperwork to file for your missing equipment?"

"Colin's taking care of it," said Bond cheerfully. He leaned one hip against Q's desk. "Care to tell me more about what's got you jumping at shadows?"

Q shivered. "I've always hated that phrase," he replied. "And unlike you, I do have work to get done before I can nip off for a drink."

Bond nodded, but Q could tell he was far from done. He'd found a mystery, a weakness in Q's armour that no one else acknowledged, and he'd poke and prod and pry until he'd taken Q apart.

Q suddenly felt very tired.

"Just go, Bond. And send Colin in with more tea on your way out," said Q, turning to pick up one of the many ongoing projects in his lab.

"I'll be back later to see about that drink," said Bond, and this time it didn't sound so much like a warning as a promise. Q listened to his steps receding, then dropped what he was doing and went to readjust the lights again to eliminate those tree-thrown shadows. That hadn't been the first time they'd startled him, but it would bloody well be the last.

* * *

Bond sauntered in around the time Q usually gave up on work for the day, a smirk on his face and a bottle in his hand. "So, about that drink," he said, leaning against Q's worktable with predatory grace. His eyes flicked around the room, assessing it not only for threats but something else, whatever it was he'd been trained to see when there was a mystery in a room and Bond had been tasked to solve it.

"I don't drink at work," said Q, "it makes the Tube hellish."

"Let me take you home, then," said Bond, his voice more gentle than Q expected. "I bet you've got it decorated to the nines."

Q couldn't help but smile, thinking of the magnificent display of lights he'd created, threading strand upon string upon net of fairy lights throughout the house until there was a twinkle of holiday cheer in every nook and cranny. "I might have done," he allowed. "I don't put out after a mere drink or three, however. I won't be one of your Bond girls."

"Of course not," said Bond smoothly. "You're like this scotch, meant to be savoured."

Q looked down at the drink he was brandishing and chuckled. "You found a bottle older than either of us, I suppose that's better than having you pretend you think I'm under 25."

Bond sidled a bit closer, one hand going to Q's hip. "I've known how amazing you are for quite some time, ever since I stopped mistaking you for some lonely art student looking to pull a sugar daddy in an art museum."

The description surprised a genuine laugh out of Q. "Did you really? You must have been so disappointed when all you got was a gun and a radio."

"Both of which saved my life," said Bond, moving closer but still not touching anywhere but that hand resting heavy against Q's narrow waist. "So in the end, it wasn't much of a disappointment on any count."

"I shouldn't even be letting you know where I live," said Q, but he couldn't help grinning.

Bond's mouth quirked in an answering smile. "You'll enjoy me. I'm a good conversationalist."

"Even with people you're not trying to kill?" asked Q, turning away and trying to breathe as he finished shutting down for the night and gathered his things. The cats would appreciate that Bond's ride meant he'd be home to feed them sooner.

Bond chuckled. "I assure you, the skills translate surprisingly well to civilian life." He laid a gentle hand on the small of Q's back, moving in close. "Let me spoil you a little."

Q sighed. "Yes, all right. Take me home." He settled his messenger bag across his body and let Bond escort him out. Q's neck crawled less than expected when the lights switched off behind them, and he couldn't help but attribute the feeling of safety to Bond's warm hand, still guarding and guiding him.

"The parking garages are much nicer since your minions lit them up," said Bond, casual as he handed Q down into the car.

"Good lighting makes for better CCTV footage," said Q, a rote answer he dragged out every time some penny-pincher got up in his face about it. "They're powered largely by solar cells on the top level."

Bond made a thoughtful noise and nodded, attention ostensibly on the twists and turns of their way out. "Q-branch is always very well-lit, too."

"I have poor low-light vision," said Q. "Is there a point, Mr. Bond?"

"Just making conversation," said Bond, stopping at the guard gate to flash his ID on the way out. "I can't wait to see how you've lit up your place for the holidays."

Q sighed. "Yes, well, you can start by turning left up here," he said. "I do love to light the place up, as you put it, though I have other decorations, too." He'd indulged in a real tree this year, the sort that came in a pot and could be re-planted after the season was over, and made garlands of pine boughs and velvet ribbon for the doorways and mantel. He'd put cinnamon-scented pinecones in his useless fireplace, which also held an arrangement of fire-imitating LEDs. He'd even replaced all but the cats' most favourite toys with holiday-themed ones. "I like Christmas."

"As do I," said Bond, suspiciously agreeable.

Conversation lapsed after that, Q giving directions and Bond driving just this side of legally as he followed them. Q would have complained, but the Aston Martin was more than capable of the tight corners, and he got a little thrill out of experiencing Bond's driving skills without having to be shot at. He directed Bond into the tiny garage under their building and his much-neglected parking spot, though he had to get out to remove the little electrified light-up robot from the space so Bond could park there.

"And how are you doing? No one's tried to move you in ages, I see, and you're still half charged so you must be feeling well," Q cooed at it, which got him a very amused look from Bond.

"Shall we?" was all Bond said, though, brandishing his bottle and gesturing toward the obvious entrance with its big, bright security light shining down on the locked door.

"Let's," said Q. He resettled his bag and took the robot upstairs; he might as well give it a bit of maintenance while James' car was there to keep the vultures at bay. The car service refused to pick him up on the street now that he was a department head, so he'd had to do something to keep the spot free.

The stairs were also well-lit, hardly a shadowy corner anywhere, which the other residents appreciated enough that no one had argued when Q offered to pay for and install the new lighting himself upon buying the penthouse flat on the top floor. 

"You bring light wherever you go," observed Bond, accurate enough to make Q bristle all over again.

"I told you, my low-light vision is terrible," said Q, but the protest sounded weak and grumpy even to his own ears. "There's nothing wrong with liking the light."

"Of course not," said Bond. "Lots of bad things live in the shadows, including me, most of the time."

Q chuckled, unlocking his door and turning off his security system, the beeping of the alarm followed by the plaintive meowing of cats who hadn't been fed in hours, or possibly years, if they were to be believed. "Yes, but you're a comfort to have in the shadows, Bond. At least to me."

Bond's chuckle was both wicked and, somehow, unthreatening. 

Q locked up after him. He put the robot down and said, "Go to your charging station, now," and then led Bond into the kitchen while it trundled off to his workshop.

"Hm," said Q, looking at his fridge.

"What is it?" asked Bond, nosing around the cupboards for glasses.

"Just wondering if I had anything suitable for dinner for two," said Q, standing and closing the door. "And the answer is: takeaway."

Bond laughed. "Takeaway and scotch," he said, pouring for them both.

"Curry all right? You like vindaloos, too, if I recall correctly," said Q. "Actually, here, you order, I'll go make sure my flat's fit for company."

Bond took the menu Q thrust at him, looking bemused, but he pulled out his phone gamely. Q took a moment to make sure there were no embarrassing dirty pants or cat surprises on the floor before he wandered back to find Bond trying to remember his address.

"Sorry about that, I forgot he's only been here the once," said Q, having stolen Bond's phone. "Right, this is, yes. I knew you'd remember me. You'll make the curries properly hot for me? All right, here he is again to pay." Q handed back the phone with a smirk.

Bond took it and rattled off his card number from memory, and Q went to put on the kettle and try the scotch, which was smooth and subtle with just the right kick. Much like the man who'd chosen it for them, really. By the time Bond was done on the phone, Q had the cats fed, a pot of tea brewing, and had drunk about half his whiskey.

Bond picked up his own glass and downed half in one swig. "Show me around your well-lit empire?"

Q huffed. "My empire is at Six and you know it," he said. "This is merely my private domain."

"I bet you could rule the world from here," said Bond, grinning, "but I suppose it's a bit inconvenient to test weaponry in a penthouse."

"Will you want tea?" asked Q dryly, checking the timer. He'd brewed a full pot knowing he'd need it if he was going to deal with Bond, and doubly so if he had to share.

"If it's on offer," said Bond with a chuckle. "Is that what we're waiting on?"

"Of course," said Q, turning off the timer before it could go off, then pulling the basket of loose leaves out of the pot and pouring two cups. Bond's got a splash of milk, as was his wont, and Q's got an exorbitant amount of sugar. "All right, tour."

"Excellent," said Bond, giving Q a toothy smile that managed to be both unnerving and comforting at once.

Q rolled his eyes and grabbed both tea and scotch, then showed Bond what he'd done with the place. The fairy lights sparkled and the tree glowed from the inside out, lights strung along each branch so there was no spot unlit. Bookshelves displaying knickknacks had small overhead spots on each item, and of course the night lights and automatic lights glowed ahead of them as they went from living room to library, workshop to office, guest room to bedroom.

"This is very good," said Bond, looking around the bedroom admiringly. "I don't think there's a single shadow in the whole flat big enough for them to enter through."

Q whirled, staring, feeling all the blood drain from his face. "What. What do you mean?"

Bond sighed. "I can't believe neither M read you in, I don't know what they were thinking," said Bond, shaking his head. "You've got all the signs of someone who's had an encounter, one would think." He sighed, exasperated, and started over. "There are things that only exist in the dark, and things that can flourish in the light but are very much of the shadows."

Q swallowed, heart hammering in his throat. "They're real?" he whispered. He'd half made himself believe he hadn't really seen what he thought he saw, that it had been a home invasion and his child's mind trying to make sense of things.

Bond nodded. "They are, and so am I." His grin widened impossibly, mouth suddenly full of far too many sharp teeth.

"Y-you? But the lights..." Q took a step back and bumped into the bed frame. He felt the world start to tilt, and when the darkness came there was nothing he could do about it.

* * *

When Q woke some time later, he was in his own, well-lit bed and the flat smelled like curry and tea. When he looked, Bond was leaning in the doorway, sipping from a cuppa while the cats wound in and out of his legs.

"You," said Q, but his mind couldn't quite put the pieces together. "The lights. The dark?"

"I'm sorry," said Bond. "I should've known better than to spring it on you. I knew how tightly-wound you are."

"How can you be here in the light?" asked Q, trying very hard to keep his breathing even. Bond hadn't hurt him when he'd fainted, but that didn't necessarily mean anything, if he was a monster.

"I'm not one of them." Bond held his hands up disarmingly, but just then it wasn't much of a comfort, seeing as Q knew perfectly well what he could do to a human body with those hands. "Come on, Q. Am I really more dangerous than I was an hour ago?"

That surprised a laugh out of Q. "All right, I suppose you could've murdered me hundreds of times before now," he said. "Where's my tea?"

"To your left," said Bond, nodding, and Q managed to get sat up against the headboard, cradling the still-warm cup. "I'm more of a higher-order monster than the things you encountered, I'm guessing as a boy?"

Q nodded mutely. "You know what they are?"

"As much as anyone does," said Bond with a shrug. "I know they're brutish and nasty but ultimately not much of a challenge. It's hard to be too worried about something you can defeat with a keychain."

Q laughed. "I suppose that's true. I've got an assortment of good, strong LEDs on me at any given time."

"Anyway," said Bond, "the food's here, and I think you need more tea and more scotch both." He came over and held out a hand.

Q sighed and took it, allowing Bond to help him up. "You are never, ever to tell anyone you made me faint," said Q crossly. His attempt to stomp toward the kitchen was somewhat thwarted by the fact that Bond had removed his shoes, so his feet made more of a whuff as soft, hand-knit wool socks sank into the carpet.

"Of course not, M would never forgive me, and Colin would take away all my stars," said Bond, following along behind. "I like your cats, by the way, what are their names?"

"Sunna and Sekhmet," said Q. "Did you feed them more?"

"I might have found their treats in the cupboard," said Bond. "But I read the directions, no more than six apiece."

Q chuckled. "Well, I'll let you reap the consequences of being a human who knows where the treats are kept, then, if you return. If you're human," he said, thoughts stumbling a little.

"I'm close enough," said Bond with a shrug. "You'd never have known any different if I hadn't told you."

"I suppose not," said Q, pausing just to put his hands on the counter and breathe in the familiar smells of home, laced with Bond's distinctive cologne. He finished his tea and poured himself another cup before turning toward the takeaway boxes, finding that Bond had used his moment of inattention to get down plates and start serving himself. "Is this why you wanted to ask me for a drink, to talk about monsters?"

Bond huffed. "No, and I'm quite disappointed that's where we've ended up." He turned and stroked the backs of his fingers down Q's cheek. "You'll never let me get you in bed now."

"You already got me in bed," Q quipped, to hide the way his hands were starting to shake.

Bond didn't miss a thing, though. "Sit down, Q, I'll serve you a plate. It was a big shock to your system."

"Why do you want to get me in bed, anyway?" asked Q, sitting heavily. He curled his hands around his teacup, soaking in the warmth.

Bond laughed and shook his head. "I assure you, Q, my motives there are purely human ones. You're gorgeous, and I want to have you."

Q harrumphed. "I still don't do casual," he groused.

Bond came over and set a plate in front of Q. "I wouldn't make you turn the lights off," said Bond slyly, voice low and sensual right in Q's ear.

"I'm not one of your tarts," Q protested, but it sounded weak even to his own ears. "Besides, sleeping with you tends to greatly lower one's life expectancy."

Bond chuckled and shook his head. "That's work," he said with a shrug, finding silverware and bringing Q over a full set, some napkins, and the box of naan for them to share. "You'd be different."

Q took some bread, tearing off a chunk and occupying his mouth with searing hot curry, feeling it burn in the best of ways. He drank tea and ate food and tended to the needs of his body, which was starting to come down from the adrenaline in an unpleasantly abrupt manner. He also ignored Bond's offer of different, of sex, of something intimate and almost-human and safe. At least for now.

Bond took it in stride, serving up his own plate and tea, and then adding milk to Q's when his face went all red from the curry. "This will help," he said, pushing the cup into Q's hand.

Q took a long drink, sighing as the milk washed away some of the spice. "Why are you so solicitous?"

"Kindness isn't solely a human trait," said Bond, looking stung.

"I never said it was," said Q tartly. "But you are charming, manipulative, violent, ruthless, efficient, and careless with my equipment. Kindness doesn't usually come into it."

Mollified, Bond shrugged. "I don't get much call to be kind, I suppose." He sipped his own tea, and then took another big bite of his dinner.

Q smiled to see Bond looking so, well, human, with a bit of curry on the side of his mouth and his hands full of food. "Well, kindness is a much better start, with me, anyway."

"Is it, now?" said Bond, perking up.

Q reached out to swipe at the sauce on Bond's face, then licked his thumb clean with a chuckle. "Patience is another good one," he said pointedly, and then went back to his dinner.

"Curry's good," said Bond after another shared silence, during which they both ate a fair amount of dinner. "I'll have to save their number, I can't get proper India-hot in London much."

Q accepted the change of subject, ready to let go of the hard topics for a little while. "It took a while and a few visits eating in to get them convinced I liked it the right way," he said. "I swear they brought me the first properly hot vindaloo as a dare just to shut me up; they weren't expecting me to be so pleased."

"You hate to fly," said Bond, "so how'd you get a taste for proper hot curries?"

Q chuckled. "Grandmother's cooking, she lived with Grandfather in India for quite a few years while he was a diplomat and they both learned to love it."

Bond looked surprised and then quite fond. "That's a good way to go about it, I suppose."

"They always turn the lights out on long flights," blurted Q.

Bond blinked, then nodded. "Of course, I should have guessed. You'd be safe with me, though, that sort know better than to mess with one of us."

"So you're an apex monster, then?" asked Q, disbelieving even to his own ears.

Bond shrugged. "There's things more dangerous than me, but the shadows can't hold them. And most of them haven't trained to be lethal, well, more lethal, which gives me additional advantage."

"So after Istanbul..." inquired Q, unable to hold in all the questions bubbling to the surface.

"Even I have trouble getting back in shape after being shot off a bridge," said Bond, humour and bitterness colouring his tone in equal measures. "Once I tried to get back to my old self, it went all right, but enough damage and abuse will slow down even a monster."

"What are you?" blurted Q. "I mean, specifically?"

Bond shrugged again. "I'm a monster. We don't obsessively classify ourselves, not like you do. There's not really that much consistency between one and another."

Q felt himself go a bit pale again. "O-oh, so you're one of a kind?" he quipped, though the joke fell a bit flat.

Bond quirked a smile at him, anyway. "You already knew that," he teased. "I got dessert, by the way, so you'd best finish up if you want gulab jamun and kheer."

"You always find a way back into my good graces," said Q wryly, but he ate anyway, filling up on good memories and spicy curry. It had seemed strange, at first, that a top-level field agent would bother to learn Q's preferences, but after several of the Double-Os had done it, he figured it was an instinct with them like flirting or shooting. Which they also all did with him -- the flirting, not the shooting -- though Bond was by far the most persistent there.

"I have to, you're the keeper of the toys," said Bond with a leer. "I want to play with all your toys, Q."

"Watch it, 007," said Q, but his heart wasn't in it. "Just for that, you get to put the leftovers away and bring me more tea and sugar."

"Of course," said Bond, finishing off his own food in one oversized bite.

Q narrowed his eyes. "Why are you being so agreeable?"

"I told you," he said, standing and gathering up the dishes, "I want to play with your toys."

"I'm not going to be a conquest," said Q irritably, slumping against the table, face on his folded arms. "It'd only start a competition among the Double-O division and I don't want any part of that."

Bond laughed. "Fair enough." 

Q listened to the water running, the clink of dishes, and rustle of takeaway containers. "They all flirt, you know, even the women."

"Of course we do, you're very attractive, and smarter than the lot of us. We find that very appealing," said Bond.

"You'd flirt with anyone, if you thought it would get you better guns," said Q, leaving his head right where it was. It was oddly comforting, having a monster in the room to keep him safe from the whisper of his memories.

"Maybe," said Bond, but in a tone that was as good as a yes. 

Q heard the fridge door opening and closing, and soon there was the clink of dishes being set in front of him and the smell of sugar and cardamom to lure him out of his sulk. "Are you all monsters?" asked Q, picking up the spoon.

"No." Bond shook his head, and then shrugged. "We're all some kind of monster, but some of them are the strictly human kind," he amended. The kettle clicked off, and he set about fixing tea as though he was, in fact, a totally normal human person.

Q sighed and took a bite of his dessert, mming at the creamy sweetness of the kheer. "Well, at least you feed me well."

"It hardly counts when you choose the restaurant," said Bond. "You should let me take you out, you'd be safe from most things with me by your side."

"You said that before," said Q. He took another bite, then shook his head. "It's a bit like having a lion assure me that hyenas wouldn't dare bother me with him there."

Bond laughed. "You might enjoy dating a lion," he teased. "Big, strong, blond, well-hung."

Q snorted. "That's in your file, too, you know," he said impishly.

Bond checked the pot, then poured them tea and took out the basket of leaves again. "Of course it is, some of these women we're sent after have very particular preferences," his voice wry this time. "009 gets all the ones that like brunets."

"That explains 002, then, he must be for the ginger fetishists," said Q darkly. That man was a bane to all things technical, and Q had been tempted to try to get him banned from fieldwork more than once on the basis of pure technological incompetence.

Bond snorted. "That, too." He set Q's cup down in front of him and sat, closer this time, next to instead of across from Q. He had his own dishes of sweets, though Q had been given the lion's share, as it were.

"Is he one of you, too?" asked Q, feeling a little shiver start at the base of his spine.

"You'll have to read the files," said Bond. "It's the only way you'll be reassured of who is what."

"Are there proper files for that?" asked Q. He was comfortable with files, with words and research and not having to sit here wondering what else Bond could do with his body to make himself more monstrous.

"There are, and Moneypenny's on her way over with them. I told M I read you in and he was less than thrilled," said Bond, showing Q the text message string in his phone.

Q shook his head, chuckling. "I can't believe you all actually call it Project Monster. You're mad."

"No one would believe the code name is literal," said Bond, tucking his phone back away. "Anyway, sorry about having to stay."

Q chuckled. "You only showed me that so I'd know it wasn't your idea," he observed. The doorbell rang, startling him. "You get it."

"Of course," said Bond, getting up and moving with the same smooth, predatory grace he'd always had, but which seemed so much more ominous and otherworldly now.

Q sighed, and stuffed more sugar into his face. It was going to be a long night, if he was meant to let Bond prowl around his flat while he slept. He heard Moneypenny's voice growing loud enough to annoy the neighbours, and called out, "Oh, just let her in, for fuck's sake."

A few minutes later she came striding into his kitchen, all concern and irritation. "You were going to be read in, you know," she said, glancing behind herself at Bond, who was trailing after with his arms full of files. "M and Tanner were figuring out the best way, given your history."

Q snorted. "Waiting until some emergency forced their hand, you mean."

She shrugged expressively and poured herself a cup of tea; Eve hadn't been there too many times, but she knew where the mugs were kept. "Well, now I know you've been paying attention," she said, saluting him with her fresh cuppa.

Q saluted back. "I'm glad someone told me, though I could've done without the toothy grin."

Eve rolled her eyes. "You didn't!"

"I wasn't thinking," said Bond, sitting at his place again. "I was going for all at once, you know, like bandages."

Q huffed a laugh. "Well, what's done is done and I'll be up half the night reading. When will I lose my escort?"

"At least a week," said Eve apologetically, leaning against the counter in a clear message that she, at least, wouldn't be staying. "There's a high incidence of people vanishing after they're read in, something about the new ones draws the predators."

"It's a little like a scent, though Q's is already fading. I bet he smelled like bait for months as a boy, though," said Bond. "I'll do what I can to mark him as mine. He won't let me do it the quick way."

Eve chuckled knowingly. "You're missing out, it does wonders for one's nerves."

Q rolled his eyes. "Not everyone wants to shag Bond," he protested.

"Yes, they do," Eve shot back. "You told me just last week-"

"Hush," said Q irritably. "That was in confidence." He buried his embarrassment in sugar, though sadly his treats were almost gone.

Bond looked intrigued, damn him. "He did tell me earlier he didn't want to wait until Christmas to unwrap me."

Eve finished off her cuppa in record time, setting the empty in the sink. "You'll have time to work on that, M's assigned you officially for the duration."

"What threat is he using as an excuse to use 007 as a trumped-up bodyguard?" asked Q, voice full of disbelief.

"Project Monster's got a lot of leeway," said Eve with a shrug. "I suggest you enjoy him while you've got him, you could use a bit of relaxation." She patted Q on the shoulder. "Bond, escort me out."

"Oh, fuck off, the both of you," said Q grumpily. "And find me more sweets."

"I'll make another takeaway order," said Bond, getting up to follow Eve to the front door.

Q resisted the urge to beat his head against the nearest flat surface, and finished his treats. "You're doing the dishes!" he called, though he got up and put everything in the sink for now. He poured himself another cup of tea and sat down with the files, opening the top one with trepidation.

The file, dated from the forties and all about the very first of the Double-O Division to be an actual monster, wasn't redacted at all. Q found this surprising, especially considering the subject matter. It made for fascinating reading, and included faded photographs of the agent, a previous 007, both in his everyday guise and with various monster features from the toothy grin Bond had displayed earlier to claws and spines down his back. The data said both were venomous, which gave Q a shudder, especially when he came to the final photo, of another part of the man's anatomy with a single protruding spine.

"You had better not be able to do this," said Q, flashing the photo at Bond when he came back in.

Bond laughed. "No, no, and let me tell you, they were disappointed I couldn't," he said wryly. "I'm not venomous at all, actually, but my bones are very dense, and I have ways of increasing that if need be."

"You do have the teeth, though," said Q dubiously.

Bond huffed, and then searched the stack for his own, much newer file, handing it to Q. "There's photos of everything I can do in there."

Q sat for a moment, then took a deep breath and flipped open the file. He was oddly reassured when Bond turned out to be far more of a blunt instrument than his predecessor, designed for hitting, biting, clawing, and, oddly, swimming. "I guess you're part shark," said Q weakly, setting the file aside.

Bond chuckled. "It's got its advantages," he said. "I can take a lot of damage, which is a trait that Six values above venom."

"No wonder you're always destroying my things," said Q. A yawn hit him by surprise, and he wondered if this was the information his brain had required to go back to trusting Bond. "Promise you're not going to bite me in my sleep?"

"I promise never to bite you in any way that isn't mutually pleasurable," said Bond, grinning enough to show his perfectly human teeth.

"It defies the laws of physics, you know," said Q irritably, closing Bond's file and putting it on top of the rest. "Shadow-monsters, you, all of it."

Bond shrugged. "More things on heaven and earth and all that."

Q huffed. "I am going to put on pyjamas and sleep in my own bed," he said. "The guest room isn't made up, and you are not allowed in bed with me."

"Yet," said Bond with a wink.

Q was not impressed.

He stomped off and put on his favourite pyjamas, joining the cats where they'd gone back to snoozing, stroking their familiar fur. "I can't believe you let a monster feed you treats," he said accusingly.

They purred louder, and Q sighed again.

"Are you dressed?" asked Bond, tapping at the slightly-open door.

"Yes, yes, come in," said Q. "Are you really going to insist on being in here?"

"I am," he said, and strolled in wearing silk pyjama bottoms and a well-fitting t-shirt. "You're most vulnerable in here."

"Don't tell me you can conjure your wardrobe, too," said Q darkly.

Bond chuckled. "Moneypenny brought my bag up from the car, I always keep spare luggage on hand in case of a swift deployment." He came over and sat by the cats, broad hand joining Q's slender one in stroking their fur. After a few moments of nothing but purring, he said with a quiet seriousness, "You'll be safer if I'm here, Q."

Q sighed. "Yes, all right, but if you make a pass I'm kicking you out, monsters or not," he said, trying to maintain a cross tone despite the wash of relief. He was tired, it was really hitting him, but he could feel that jittery fear underneath the exhaustion just waiting to keep him awake while his body grew more and more weary.

"Monster's honour," said Bond teasingly. He slipped under the covers with nary a glance at the light switch, which endeared him to Q a bit more. "I like your cats."

"They have appalling taste in people," replied Q, when Sunna headbutted Bond's hand for more focused petting.

Bond chuckled. "I don't know, they clearly adore you."

Q had no idea what to say to that, so he set his glasses aside, settled in against the pillows, and said nothing at all. He didn't expect to sleep despite his tiredness, not until he'd had a long battle with his imagination. Instead, between one breath and the next, Q slipped into slumber.

* * *

Q awoke to the smell of fresh-baked something, which was very confusing as he'd never used his oven for anything more exciting than fish fingers. It took him another moment to realise he was alone, neither cats nor Bond in the bed with him. He had a vague memory of snuggling up to something last night, and he could only hope it had been Sekhmet. It couldn't have been Sunna, she'd have clawed his face off for the presumption.

It had to have been Sekhmet.

Q forced himself up out of bed, fumbling his glasses on and taking a moment to appreciate the sunlight joining all his artificial glow. He felt a whisper of something on the edges of his awareness and shivered, then called out, "Bond? Is that bread?"

"I got pastries in, as promised," said Bond, padding down the hall with cats at his feet and a tray in hand. "Breakfast in bed?"

The shiver grew more pronounced, and Q curled himself into bed, feet and hands away from the edges. "Yes, please, and you as well," he said, trying to sound tart, and mostly sounding small.

Bond came in and casually set the tray on the end of the bed, saying, "Up you go," to the cats. He flattened himself against the floor all in a rush, hand darting out and coming up with something small and squirming. "Spies in my domain?"

"No nono no no," said a tiny voice, and Q had an impression of flailing limbs and huge, huge eyes.

"He's mine," said Bond, leaning over the little creature to do something Q couldn't really see and didn't want to. "Let it be known, little spy."

"Will! Willwillwill," it stammered, curling in on itself as Bond took it to the least-sunny of Q's windows and released it. It spread itself out to catch the wind like a flying squirrel, gliding between shadows until it was gone.

"You've an LED out under there," said Bond. "You eat, I'll replace it. Work room?"

Q nodded, heart in his throat, and then pulled the tray toward himself carefully, trying to quell the thrum of his pulse and the shaking of his fingers. There was a pot of tea and a huge plate of assorted pastries: Danishes and cinnamon rolls, croissants both plain and chocolate, crumb cake and even a slice of Battenberg. He snagged one of the cinnamon rolls, fluffy with frosting and still warm, and took a huge bite, feeling the sugar hit his bloodstream and start to calm him.

"You've got a lot of lights in there," said Bond, coming in holding one of the little LED pods Q used for most of his under-furniture lighting. "This is what I need?"

"Yeah, it's easier to replace the whole pod and then fix the broken one at my leisure," said Q. "What was that?"

"A spy," said Bond. "Normally I'd've just killed it, but it'll do you good for word to get out that you're mine."

"Th-thanks?" asked Q, hating how he stammered. He stuffed another bite of roll into his face to shut himself up.

Bond sat and poured tea for them both, sugaring Q's liberally. "You'll calm down in a few days, and then little things like that won't even bother you," he said. "You could've squashed it under your heel."

"I'm a little surprised the girls didn't try to eat it, to be honest," said Q, gesturing to the cats. "They're totally on your side now, it's unfair."

Bond shrugged. "I wasn't sure it wouldn't have teeth or claws. You'd never forgive me if one of them got hurt." He reached out and petted one and then the other, until they got up and came over to Q to demand his tribute, as well.

Q sipped tea and scritched fuzzy noggins, pensive but much less apprehensive than he had been last night. "Thank you, then, for taking care of all of us."

Bond grinned, lit up like one of Q's LEDS. "You're very welcome, Q." He clinked his teacup against Q's, and then stole one of the croissants off the plate, though he left the chocolate one for Q.

Q relaxed into the, well, not routine, as he definitely didn't have anyone making him breakfast in bed normally, but the mundanity of it all. The tea was good, if a bit under-steeped, and the pastries were fresh and sweet and together they gave him enough energy to keep the adrenaline crash from hitting him too hard. "So, are we trapped here until my monster-tasty aura wears off or whatever?"

"I'm afraid so," said Bond. He was relaxing diagonally across the bed, the cats sprawled decadently across his chest while he spoiled them with petting. "I've got clothes enough, if I can do some laundry, and there's plenty of places that'll bring us food."

"Not worried about monstrous delivery boys?" asked Q, settling back against the headboard with a last cup of tea in hand and legs curled up beneath him.

"Not worried about them getting past me, no," said James, cocky as ever. "We'll go through the whole place and check your lights before sundown, too."

"I've got a routine," confessed Q. "You threw me off last night." He clucked his tongue and gestured, and one of the cats lazily vacated Bond in favour of scratches from its preferred human. "Did you give them wet food?"

"Not yet," said Bond with a chuckle. "I wasn't sure of the timing." Sekhmet took advantage of Sunna's defection to sprawl more aggressively, taking up most of Bond's chest with her fluff. Bond rubbed her belly fondly. "I'm sure you'll teach me, so I can spoil all three of you."

"Maybe," said Q. "I should do some work, after we check the lights." He contemplated the projects he had here in his home workshop, and of course the no-doubt painful amount of email waiting, even with Colin filtering it for him.

"Someday, I'll get you to take a day off," said Bond, reaching out to stroke one warm hand over the top of Q's foot. Sekhmet rewarded him by putting her paw in his face until he brought the hand back to its proper place.

"Half of love," said Q with as serious a face as he could manage, "is just lo."

Bond blinked at him in frank confusion, and Q cracked up laughing.

"Sorry, sorry, it's, there's a video, it's a meme. Cats, both hands, half of love, oh god," he managed to get out between gasps, before the laughter overtook him entirely. He knew it was a little bit hysterical, a way to relieve the insane tension of the past twelve hours, but he couldn't help the way giggles kept bubbling up every time he looked over at Bond's bemused expression.

"All right, well, you can explain that when you've got your breath back I guess," said Bond, rolling his eyes.

Q finished his tea and gave Sunna the joy of two-handed petting, grinning beatifically at Bond. "Do you have a pet, Bond? One of those weird spy-things, maybe?"

Bond chuckled. "I don't, but you'd be surprised at how many monsters do. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement, the big monster gets some info and the little one gets food and protection."

Q kissed Sunna's fuzzy forehead. "What do they eat, not cats I hope?"

"No, little things like that are more likely to eat the cat food," said Bond. "What they like is as individual as the creature, monsters really aren't of a type the way other animals are."

"So there's not a whole fleet of flying squirrel eyeball monkey things out there, just the one like him?" Q asked.

Bond shrugged. "There might be, but that doesn't mean you can have your own flying monkey. You're not the wicked witch, you know."

"At least you get that reference," said Q. "And why can't I? I can feed it just fine, and you'd beat up anyone who hurt my flying monkey."

Bond laughed. "Well, I suppose I would, but you'd have to let me live here with you in your fortress of solitude if I was going to take care of your pet." He gave Q a leer that was so much like his old self that it uncurled another knot of tension in Q's stomach.

Q laughed. "As if you haven't already moved yourself in," he said, but he couldn't stop grinning at the thought of it. "You're barely home, anyway." Q finished his tea and put the cup on the tray.

"Nonsense, if I moved in I'd demand a proper closet for my suits," said Bond. He sat up, gently removing the protesting cat, and scooped up the tray. "Let's feed them and do your lights check?"

"Yep," said Q with a sigh. "It's time." He swung his feet over the edge, only flinching a little as they hit the floor, ankles well within reach of the gap under the bed. He stepped away quickly enough to betray his worries, but Bond didn't take the chance to tease, for once.

"What's their feeding schedule, anyway?" asked Bond, leading as they made their way, people and cats, out through the apartment and into the kitchen. 

They talked about cats and Q showed Bond what to feed them and how much. They left them munching happily away on their favourite wet food while Q showed Bond the fastest way to check every light in the house. They found two more bulbs out, which Q declared vexing, given that the LEDs were meant to last for years, but it was the work of a moment to find replacements and fix everything up.

"Those weren't really anywhere that would have a pool of shadow, anyway," said Bond. "Really the only reason the spy could get in was that they're not entirely of shadow, though they do use them to move."

"Can you do that?" asked Q. "How does that even work?"

Bond shrugged. "I can, but I couldn't explain it, and I can't take you. I tried, once, but humans can't survive in the shadows."

Q shivered. "I hope it was a last resort, then."

Bond's nod was grim. "She'd have died regardless, there was no way to get her medical care in time." They'd ended up back in the kitchen, Q sitting at the table while Bond puttered.

"Mind if I have a shower while you work?" asked Bond, making up another pot of tea once the dishes were in the dishwasher.

"Be my guest," said Q. "I'll probably have one after, I can get a bit grubby in the workshop sometimes, depending." He let his mind wander again, thinking about what he could do to help his parking robot work a little better once Bond's car was gone and it was back to its guard duty. 

Bond nodded. "I might do an online grocery order, if you're willing to brave my cooking?" he said, and something about his pose was almost too casual.

"Unless you're going to tell me you require eyeballs and entrails in your dinner, I'm hardly going to object," said Q. "If you get eggs, I can make waffles, too. Milk for tea, I guess?"

Bond poured tea for them both, putting plenty of sugar in Q's before handing it over. "I'll do an inventory and show you the list before I do the final order," he said. "Do I need a password to get on the wifi?"

"If it's Six equipment, you'll automatically log onto a separate router, but I can put you on the house network if you'd prefer. It's actually more secure," said Q with a chuckle. "This way I can let colleagues come over and leech the wifi without compromising my home security by letting anyone with a stolen bit of tech get into my network."

"You let colleagues come over?" asked Bond, looking positively jealous.

Q couldn't help a bit of inner glee at that. "A few, Moneypenny's been by a couple of times, Colin, M the once. The old one, the new one's not tried for a visit yet. Tanner comes by every few months, I think to make sure I've not gone mad yet." 

"But I'm the only Double-O?" asked Bond, looking somewhat mollified.

Q chuckled. "Yes, yes, you big baby." He saluted Bond with his cup of tea. "I'll be in the work room, find me when you want on the wifi."

"Will do," Bond replied, returning the salute.

Q left him to his provisioning and went into the work room, first just taking a moment to breathe. Bond hadn't really let Q out of his sight since his big revelation, and Q wanted a moment to assimilate the idea that the agent he'd been crushing on for weeks was a monster. And to face up to the fact that it didn't really make him any less appealing, at least not once Q saw he didn't have venomous spines in his penis. Q contemplated whether to admit his inexperience and let Bond take care of it, and once he let that fantasy play out, he brought himself back down to earth.

Bond was a monster, and savouring or not, he clearly had no intention of being Q's beyond the short term.

Q shook himself and let it go, for now, pulling his mind to his work. He got out his laptop and checked his email, bemused to find a number of get well messages, including one from Colin assuring him that he'd take care of everything while Q was gone. Apparently, according to Tanner, the official cover story was that Bond had given him some obscure flu and they were both under quarantine until the end of next week.

Q chuckled and settled in to wade through some email he'd been putting off, things he needed to read instead of just filing away and yet never seemed to get around to. He was surprised to find his teacup empty an hour and six long professional articles later, and reflected that the lack of Colin might actually be the worst part of this exile. He emerged to the sound of his shower running, so he wandered into the kitchen to see if there was still anything in the pot, and if not, to make another.

The pot on the counter was empty and cold, so Q let his mind wander while his hands performed his usual routine of filling the kettle and setting everything up. He was distracted enough that he nearly jumped out of his skin when, instead of a tin of tea, a familiar creature came tumbling out of his cupboard.

"Sorrysorry!" it babbled, cowering under the cupboards.

"Are you the same spy as earlier?" asked Q.

"Yesyes, sorrysorry, yesnosorry," it chattered, looking up at him with huge eyes. It looked like it was made of shadow, fuzzy and indistinct and not quite black but every possible shade of grey, its six spindly limbs wrapped protectively around its soft middle.

"Do you have sharp teeth?" asked Q, reaching out toward it, unable to contain his curiosity.

"N- maaaybe?" it said, eyes narrowing. "Nosquish if I do?"

Q snorted a laugh. "I don't plan on squishing you, though I'd like to know why you came back even after Bond's warning." The kettle dinged, making them both jump, and Q shook his head and reached up for the tin of tea.

"Hadta," it said miserably. "Squishsquish if I do, squishsquish if I don't."

"Poor thing," said Q. He kept half an eye on it while he got the tea brewing, but it seemed trapped as much by its own misery as Q's presence. "What do you eat?"

It perked up hugely after that. "Eatses yumyums?" it asked, leaning forward.

"Maybe, but what?" asked Q, finding the thing increasingly adorable, which was probably a bad sign.

"Who are you asking?" asked Bond, startling both of them into squeaking. He moved into the room and spotted the cowering figure. "What're you doing back here, little spy?"

"It was forced to," said Q, holding up a hand before Bond could grab it. "I was going to feed it."

Bond looked from Q to the creature, and then laughed, shaking his head. "Try putting a few things on a plate and see what it goes for."

It uncurled again and crawled a few tentative half-steps forward. "Really yumyums?"

"Really," said Q, getting down a plate. "If we can figure out what you like, anyway."

"Don't like dead things," it said, nose wrinkling. "Not like meowmeows eat."

"So, no cat food, got it," said Q, poking through his cupboards while Bond got into the fridge. Between them they got a small assortment of items onto the plate, including a chunk of cheese, a couple of carrot sticks, a few biscuits, a pile of crisps, and even a single cat treat.

"Yumyums," it said, scooting up to the plate and sitting down in front of it. It picked up each thing in turn and sniffed it, putting the cat treat back with a face, but keeping one of everything else, one item in each of its top four hands. The other two were gripping the edge of the plate itself, as though it was afraid that the bounty would be snatched away. It tasted each thing, and then held up the carrot and declared, "This is best."

"So, putting some fresh veg on that shopping list, then," said Bond dryly.

"I guess so," said Q. He ducked into the fridge and poked around, but other than the rest of the carrot sticks, there really wasn't anything edible.

"What's your name?" asked Q, coming over with the bag. "What are you called?"

Its eyes got very wide and very fixed on the carrots. "Spy or bigeyes or heyyou, mostly," it said, shrugging. "Not a big'un."

"Hm, boring," said Q. "Do you want a name?"

Its eyes narrowed again. "Can have more yumyums?" it asked, stuffing its mouth full of crisp and holding out the now-empty hand.

"Yes," said Q, dumping the rest of the carrots onto the plate. He turned to Bond while the little thing munched happily. "How loyal do you think it would be, if I kept it?"

Bond thought about this for a moment. "No idea, but it might not be very happy living in your shadowless flat," he said, moving to check if the tea was steeped yet.

He brushed past Q in a way that made Q suddenly very aware that Bond wasn't wearing anything but a pair of worn jeans that fit like an obscenity charge waiting to happen. Q's cheeks flamed and he forced himself to look away. "I suppose I'm not really home enough to have a flying monkey of my own," he said with a sigh.

Bond chuckled. "If it got along with the cats, I don't see why not," he said. He snuggled up behind Q and whispered in his ear, "But I might be jealous if you kept him and not me."

Q swallowed, sagging a little when Bond moved to pour the tea for them. "I didn't think you wanted to be kept," said Q. It was inevitable he'd give in to Bond's flirting, but he was going to make Bond work for it.

Bond chuckled. "You're not most people, you'd understand about work." He snuck a biscuit out of the open packet on the counter. "And you're not as freaked out as I thought you'd be about the monster thing."

Q glanced over at the fuzzy creature on his countertop, happily munching at carrots with the occasional crisp between sticks. "It's actually sort of nice, knowing I'm not crazy." He reached out and then paused. "Can I pet you?"

It looked up. "Whatwhat? Pets?" it asked, dubious about Q's outstretched hand.

"Like this," said Bond, ruffling Q's hair, running a hand down his back. "Nice touching."

"Maaaaaaybe," it said. "Gonna keep me? No squishsquish?" It was starting to drift closer to Q's hand, though.

"If you can play nice with the cats, I might," said Q. He ran a gentle hand over the creature's shoulder, finding its fur finer and sparser than a cat's, but still thick enough to keep it warm, apparently. "How can I keep you from spying on me and reporting back?"

"Noooooo squishsquish," it said, ending with a little trill. "Pets and yumyums?"

Q laughed. "Pets and yumyums, no squishsquish, and a name," he said. "Will you be ill here, with all the lights in the flat?"

It peered around, pupils already slits in the bright kitchen. "Maaaaybe?"

"Let's get it one of those little cat beds, the enclosed kind. That might be enough shadow for it," said Bond.

Q sighed. "Let's, huh?" he said. "Won't that be too much shadow, though?"

Bond and the little monster both snorted. "I c'n keep my own shadow," it said, full of contempt.

"If it's really his, he can keep the space..." said Bond, and then he huffed in frustration. "There's no real way to say it, it's not so much safe as it is his."

"Not a him," it said, sticking out its tongue, pink between the flat, dull teeth of an herbivore. "I is it."

Q looked to Bond for an explanation.

"That means it's not able to reproduce sexually," said Bond. "No making more without permission," he added.

"Donwanna share," it said, shrugging.

Q chuckled. "I sympathise. All right, it's a deal. So, what sort of name is appropriate?"

"Something gender neutral, I suppose," said Bond. "Though I'm a bit put out we're naming pets before I've even gotten a kiss."

Q rolled his eyes. "How about Andy? Short for androgynous."

"Wassitmean?" it said, narrowing its eyes at them.

"It means not a him or a her," said Q, reaching out to resume his curious petting.

"Andy okayokay." It let out another of those little trills and relaxed further, letting go of the plate and curling up next to it. "So many yumyums," it murmured.

"We'll make sure there's always some," said Q. "If you're full, I'll put these in the fridge?"

It trilled again, then sighed. "Drinks?"

"Oh, of course," said Q, getting down a glass and then pausing. "Er, how do you like to drink?"

After a moment of ridiculous miming, it ended up coming over to drink straight from the faucet, and getting a lesson in how to turn it on and off for itself. "Remember, you've got to turn it off when you're done."

"No waste," it said, nodding seriously. "Freshwater good."

Bond shook his head. "You're spoiling it already."

"You like that about me," said Q. Once it had turned off the water and Q had put its plate away in the fridge, Q plucked it off the counter by habit, pulling it into a cuddle. "Oh, erm, is this okay?"

"Peeeeeets," it said, snuggling up.

Q chuckled. "All right, then. Let's go to the living room and make that grocery order. I've already got an account with a pet store that should be able to send a bed over."

"Darks for me?" it said sleepily. "Besthomeever."

"As long as you're a good monster," said Q wryly. "Am I going to have to teach it to use the catbox?" he asked Bond.

Bond shook his head. "Andy's got a way to keep itself clean already, I bet."

A sleepy nod and another trill answered him.

Q chuckled. "We'll figure it out, I suppose," he said, sitting awkwardly with the creature clinging to his shirt.

Bond brought the tea, and even went to find himself a shirt and Q a blanket to help keep the light off his new pet, then snuggled right up to them both. "All right, this is what I've got so far," he said, and off they went, adding things until there was plenty for everyone. Q ended up sending Bond into his work room for Q's tablet to order the pet stuff, his hands stroking over Andy's short fur the whole time, listening to it trill in its sleep.

After a bit, the cats came in and jumped up, coming over to sniff curiously at the thing, one on each side of Q, which put Sekhmet firmly in Bond's lap.

"Don't eat it, it's going to live here," said Q softly, reaching out to scritch the fuzzy head on either side of him.

Andy blinked away, eyes going wide. "Meowmeows no eat?" it asked, going very still.

"I won't let them eat you," said Q. "This is Sunna, and that's Sekhmet."

"Ugh, suns," it said, hiding for a moment, but when it peeked out it had something like a smile on its face.

Q looked surprised. "You know they're sun goddesses?"

"Monsters always know the name of the enemy," said Bond dryly. He took over petting Sekhmet, so that Q could concentrate on Sunna and Andy.

Sunna apparently decided that wasn't good enough, so she climbed right into Q's lap and situated herself around the poor little monster, then started licking it.

"No eats!" it protested.

"She's not eating you, she's grooming you," said Q with a chuckle. "Bath."

Andy gave him an aggrieved look, but submitted to the washing, and even seemed to like it well enough after a bit. "Gonna smell like meats," it said glumly.

"Probably, yeah," said Q. "Sorry, but this is better than being eaten."

"Maaaaaybe." It was still glaring a little, but with very little force.

Q chuckled. "You'll live," he said, giving both hands of attention to the cat for a bit. Once the washing was finished, Q spread his love back out again, although this still left him with no hands for the tablet.

"I'll finish up the order, Andy, is this going to be all right for you?" He showed it the photo of the wool cat cave they'd picked, the biggest one they had with a tiny opening.

"Darks and softs?" said Andy, eyes big and wide as it reached out. "Really for me?"

"Really for you," said Q, nodding to Bond to finalise the order, which also included some actual cat supplies while they were bothering. "I take care of my pets."

"Ibegood," it said, snuggling up to Q without dislodging Sunna's rather possessive cuddle.

"There's more food on the way, too, so you can have some variety," said Q. He relaxed back into the couch, which meant leaning into Bond.

"Did you want a nap?" asked James, setting the tablet aside. He slipped one arm around Q, shifting so they were all five in a nice big snuggle.

"Naaaaaap," said Andy, slipping back into its doze with a trill.

Q chuckled. "Nap sounds great, as long as we hear the door. It'd be a shame to pay for same-day delivery and then miss it."

"Waste of my good money," said Bond, kissing Q's hair. "Go on, I'll stand watch while the lot of you sleep."

Q turned his head and brushed a kiss across Bond's cheek. "Thank you," he said, then shifted so he was comfortable enough to be going on with and let himself join his pets in their nap.

* * *

Q woke to the sound of his phone, blinking sleepily as Bond got the delivery man buzzed upstairs and went to answer the door. Q stretched and chuckled as first one, then both cats abandoned him to see what was being delivered, then nearly jumped out of his skin as the third, nearly-forgotten pet in his lap stirred.

"Isokay?" it whispered.

Q chuckled and reached under the blanket to ruffle Andy's fur. "Yes, sorry, I half forgot you were there," he said softly. Then, louder to Bond, "Is that groceries or pet food?"

"The latter," said Bond. "I'm almost done, just have to sign." There was a little more murmured conversation by the door, and then Bond appeared holding the cat cave and looking bemused. "We might need to put something in it, what do you think, Andy?"

"Darks and softs!" it said, launching itself in a short glide to cling to Bond's chest.

Bond chuckled and gave it a pat, then held up the cave so it could look inside. "What do you think, want a towel or something to nest in?"

"Ooh, yesyes?" it said, crawling inside and then peering out at them through the opening, which was just big enough to accommodate its head and shoulders.

Q chuckled. "Yes, hold on." He stood and stretched, then rummaged in the linen closet until he came up with an old baby blanket he'd acquired when one of the cats had been ill and needed to be wrapped up like a burrito to be given her meds. "How about this?"

He brought it over and proffered it at the doorway to the cat cave, and Andy dragged it inside with a happy trill. "Softs and warms and darks. Best home."

"All right, now where do we put it?" asked Bond with a chuckle. "What room?"

"Bedroom, I think," said Q. He leaned in slowly and pressed a soft kiss to Bond's mouth, savouring the man's surprise as much as anything. "Unless it'd be better off out here?"

"Sleeps in sleepsroom," said Andy, peering back out, a little flap of blanket on top of its head. "Saaaaafe."

Q chuckled. "Bedroom it is," he said. "Will that, um, bother you?" Q found himself blushing, now that he'd all but decided to let Bond have him, to even allude to the mechanics of it.

Bond chuckled and headed off that way. "Andy will make itself scarce if it doesn't want to see anything untoward," he said.

They installed the cat cave in one well-lit corner with the opening facing into the room, so Andy could come and go and still hide under its blanket in the dark safety of a space that was its own. "Whoooo spy?" asked Andy, climbing out of the cave once it was placed to everyone's satisfaction.

"What?" asked Q.

"Whospy? Got yumyums and darksafes and nosquish," it said, climbing up Q with strong, gentle fingers gripping his clothes, until it could snuggle in his arms again.

"No one," said Q, rubbing his cheek against the downy-soft head. "Just be safe, and tell me if any monsters try to get in."

Andy looked dubious. "Can't guard, toosquish," it said.

"Not guard," said Q. "Lookout."

"Ohhhh, yesyes. Good." It rubbed its cheek against Q's, then launched itself out of his arms and glided back to its cave. "Goodhome."

"Good home," agreed Q, smiling. His pocket chimed, and they left Andy to get settled, answering the door together for the grocery delivery. Bond signed while Q ferried bags inside, neither of them ready to let a stranger all the way into the flat right now.

"You've got it lit up like Times Square in there," said the delivery man cheerfully.

"I love fairy lights, and this time of year I'm allowed to indulge," said Q, giving Bond a fond sort of look meant to imply he was the one doing the allowing.

Bond shrugged. "It keeps him happy," he said. "There's a couple of things missing, Q, did you see the bag of apples?"

"No," said Q. "Is this all you've got for us?"

The man chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ah, sorry, must've left a bag in the truck. Just hold on, I'll run down and get it," he said, turning to go.

Q wasn't sure what it was that made him bristle, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, but Bond must have seen it, too, because he stepped out into the hallway and shut the door behind himself firmly, saying, "I'll walk you down."

Q swallowed nervously, unsure what he was meant to do, so he made his way back to the bedroom and called the cats to him. They came for their usual cuddle, and Andy poked its head out curiously. "Is call for pets?"

"Yes," said Q with a smile, "come be safe and get petted."

It glided over, then sniffed his hand and made a face. "Monster," it said, licking Q's hand with a tongue like wet velvet, softer than a cat but rougher, still, than a human's.

"I know, Bond's gone to take care of it," said Q. "We're to stay safe up here."

Andy snuggled up, reaching out to pet the cats while Q split his attention between all three of them. Sunna and Sekhmet were dubious at first, but its agile little fingers were soon put to work getting just the right spots behind ears and under chins.

Q chuckled. "That's one way to get them on your side," he said, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Andy's head, and then each of the cats as well. "They sort of hate the kissing, but they also sort of love it."

Andy let out a trilling little laugh. "Mouthpets," it said, scrunching up its face teasingly.

The cats were long used to Q's fits of anxiety and fell asleep in short order. A few more minutes of nervous petting later the sound of the key in the front door lock startled Q, waking everyone all over again.

"It's just me, I've got the rest of the food," called Bond. The locks click-clacked shut, and Q forced himself to relax. "I made it clear that this was my territory now."

"Is it?" asked Q, as Bond leaned in the doorway with a rather wicked, toothy grin.

"You know it is." Bond came over for a kiss, bag of fruit left to lean drunkenly on the bedspread.

Andy scrunched his face. "Mouthpets," it said and pushed off, gliding back over to its cave.

Q laughed. "Apparently none of my pets really approve of kissing," he explained.

Bond sat and gathered him close for another kiss, which Q allowed because he really, really wanted more of Bond's talented kisses. "You said you don't do casual," Bond began, not letting Q's kiss interrupt his train of thought, "but this isn't casual. I'm moving in."

Q blurted out, "I'm a virgin."

Bond blinked, and stared, and blinked again.

Q flushed and pulled away. "Is that a problem?" he asked, voice icy.

Bond shook his head, then kissed him rather more fiercely. "You'll be all mine," he purred, kissing him again. "I'm definitely moving in."

Q's cheeks grew hotter. "Virginity is highly overrated, you know," he said tartly.

Bond went a bit pink around the edges himself. "I'm afraid it's rather instinctual for me, wanting to claim my own territory. I've never really indulged before. I wasn't one of those boys in uni who only went for the virgins."

"Well, thank goodness for that," said Q, only mostly sarcastic. He let himself snuggle back up and admitted, "It was always about the shadows for me."

Bond nodded, understanding dawning. "No good way to explain why you want your bedroom lights not only on but lighting every corner of the room," he said. "But, I mean, you're gorgeous. I'm pretty sure you'd have found someone if you really wanted to."

Q shrugged. "I also was under the impression I was suffering from mild paranoid delusions," he reminded Bond. "Not exactly boyfriend material."

"Do you mind that I like being your first?" asked Bond, looking uncertain for the first time.

Q kissed him. "It's better than thinking it's all very inconvenient," he said with a shrug. "Just keep in mind you're going to have to fumigate yourself after every honeypot mission from now on."

Bond laughed, as he was meant to, and gave Q a proper snog. "Well, sadly, now is not the time for me to rid you of your pesky virginity. You need lunch first, and I want to make sure that our new pet can get to its food."

"Yumyums?" said Andy, peeking out of its cave.

Q laughed. "Yeah, come on, let's see how we can keep your food fresh and accessible."

They all went into the kitchen, rummaging around, the cats getting a bit of chicken while Andy shared a cut-up apple with Bond and Q. Q dug an insulated lunch bag decorated like the TARDIS out of the back of a cupboard, and between that and some fruit that could stay on the counter, they made sure Andy would have access to anything he'd need while those with enough body weight to open the fridge were away.

"S'good," said Andy, rummaging in his food bag and pulling out a celery stick. "I eats. Nobad."

Q strokes its head. "Good flying monkey," he said, making Bond chuckle.

"Dongetit," said Andy, shrugging and rummaging for a broccoli floret. It had proven to have a very broad palate, and was happy to eat almost any of the fresh fruit and veg they'd bought, with the exception of the hot peppers Bond had acquired for curry.

"We'll watch Wizard of Oz later," promised Q. "It's a movie, you know, the fake moving pictures?"

"Ohhhhh, stories." It zipped its bag back up and then crawled over for a snuggle, carrot in one hand and apple slice in another, with four left for clinging. "Stories good."

"I love stories," said Q, half a whisper. "We'll share stories."

Bond came over and snuggled up behind him. "You have to teach me all your nerd stories, too, I can't be the only monster in the house who doesn't know Doctor Who from Doctor Strange."

Q laughed and kissed him. "All right, we'll have family viewings, then," he said fondly. "Are you really going to move in and, you know, be mine? Just like that?"

Bond nipped his ear and mmed. "Yep, just like that," he said. "I've only met one other human I wanted to keep, and you're far better for me than she was."

"I won't argue that," said Q; he'd read that part of Bond's file, too. "All right, we've fed Andy but I'm still hungry, and all the food you bought me is still ingredients." He was aware he was whinging a bit, but his stomach was feeling very empty despite the apple slices.

Bond chuckled. "I'll make you tea and give you sugar if you're willing to wait for me to cook you something."

Q narrowed his eyes. "Is this all part of the monster claiming thing?" he asked.

"Yep!" said Andy cheerfully. "Maaates."

"I thought you weren't into all that," said Q.

"Mates is better, safer," it said, making a motion like a shrug with four of its arms, and then wrapping them around itself. "Safer for me."

Q chuckled. "So you're saying if he takes me as his mate, you'll have a more stable home life?"

"Yesss mates!" it replied, chirping happily to have been understood.

Q turned and kissed Bond sweetly. "All right, yes, take me for your weird monster mate, as long as there's no pain involved. There will be no biting or scarring or poking."

Bond laughed. "Well, some poking, I hope," he said, leering exaggeratedly.

"You know what I mean," said Q with a huff.

"I promise, I'll feed you and make love to you, and then once I've moved my things in, you'll be mine in ways no monster will challenge." He kissed him again. "Besides, you'll like my cooking. I can make a proper spicy curry."

"You'd better," said Q, stomach growling again. "Now, I think I was promised tea and treats?"

"Yes, yes," said Bond, sitting him down. He made tea and produced a pastry box from on top of the fridge, still half-full of the treats they'd shared for breakfast what felt like a lifetime ago. "Don't completely spoil your appetite, please, I'm going to work very hard to give you a proper mating feast."

Q licked his lips. "So this is going to be, like, monster marriage? Is there an HR form for that?"

"There might be, but it'd be classified," said Bond, turning to start the food, having already made himself familiar with the location of everything in Q's kitchen. He began pulling out everything he'd need, cutting board and knives, dishes and spices, meat and veg and some things Q was pretty sure he hadn't owned yesterday. "You could always just marry me, too."

Q choked on his pain au chocolat. "James fucking Bond, did you just bloody propose to me?"

Bond froze, and turned, looking all pink around the edges again. "Ah, well, I sort of already, I mean, mating is pretty much. Um. Yes?" He winced.

Q huffed. "I expect a real proposal and a very fancy, nerd-appropriate ring as soon as you can leave this flat." He tried to sound cold and offended, but he was pretty sure a grin was creeping through.

Bond took two long strides across the kitchen and pulled Q into a kiss. "How are you not freaked out?" he asked. "You're amazing."

"I'm sure I'll have a proper freak-out soon enough," said Q with a shrug. "I trust you'll take good care of me when I do."

Bond's face grew all soft and warm at that, and he kissed Q again. "Of course I will," he promised. "We'll all snuggle up, cats and monsters both, and hold you until you're ready to face the world again."

Q hugged him hard, hiding his face in Bond's neck, finding the darkness comforting just this once. "Will you love me someday, James?"

"Of course," said Bond, holding him back, tight but not confining. "You'll have to show me how, but even monsters can love."

"I'm no good at it, either," said Q with a laugh. He pulled back enough to get another kiss, finding himself already addicted to the feel of Bond's lips on his. "I suppose we'll fumble through, we always do."

"We do," said Bond, smiling and kissing him again. "But first, I'm going to feed you."

Q laughed and they shared one last, lingering kiss before Bond went back to his cooking and Q to his nibbling. Q finished the first pastry before retrieving his tablet, burying himself in work while Bond filled the kitchen with delicious smells. His tea was refreshed regularly, although the pastries were not, and Q got a fair amount of work email out of the way before Bond handed him a cup not of Earl Grey but a lovely, milky chai.

"Oh, is lunch ready?" asked Q, looking up to find the cats eating their wet food, Andy munching happily on bread in some sort of spinach dip, and Bond dishing up plates for both of them.

"It is, I made Andy a no-spices version of our saag paneer, turns out it likes the cheese," said Bond, putting a pair of plates in front of Q, one full of food and the other with what looked suspiciously like homemade naan bread on it.

"How did you make any of this in my kitchen? Where on earth did you get some of those pots?" asked Q, feeling totally wrong-footed.

"Igotem," said Andy cheerfully. It fished a bit of cheese out of its dish and nibbled on it, making a happy little trill.

"Since Andy is yours and you're mine, it was able to sneak into my kitchen and retrieve a few things," said Bond proudly.

Q laughed, shaking his head. "I had no idea you were such a gourmet," he said, in lieu of more questions about how it worked and why couldn't he try it and maybe some instruments could be taken in. He tore off a bit of bread and dug into the food. The spice hit his tongue first, fiery as he could want, and then the flavours beneath it, subtle and amazing for something that was basically spinach. "Wow, okay, this is. Wow." He turned to Andy. "Good job getting him whatever he needed."

Andy trilled again, grin disturbingly wide yet still somehow adorable. "Yours now."

"Good, erm, monster," said Q with a chuckle. "Good monsters, I suppose, this really is amazing."

Bond sat across from him looking smug. "I made dessert, too," he said, digging into his own food with a blunt-toothed grin. "I'm wooing you as properly as I can."

Q chuckled. "You're going to have to explain to me how you've got a culture if you don't really talk or hang out with each other and none of you are the same," he said, gesturing with another bit of naan.

Bond's expression went sheepish and adorable. "Some of it's just instinct, and you know, we are children at one point, well, I was. Before I lost them, my parents taught me a bit about how to be a good monster."

"Learned hard way," said Andy. "This's better'n that." It waved a carrot and dipped it in the saag, then nibbled with contented crunching noises.

"I'm glad," said Q, coming over to ruffle Andy's fur. Its eyes went all slitted and ecstatic. "You're both turning out to be excellent additions to my household."

Andy and Bond exchanged pleased looks at that, while Q settled back in front of what was apparently his wedding feast. He had a million questions but the food was amazing, and he was pretty sure sex with Bond, James, would be even better. It was actually much more distracting than he'd expected, now that it was actually going to happen. Q let that anticipation drive out the rest, filling himself up with good curry and the jittery static of wanting Bond.

"What are you thinking?" asked Bond, after about ten minutes of mostly-silent eating.

Q laughed and blushed. "I'm trying to just think about the food, a-and, um. What comes next. Be in the moment and anticipate the good things and all that."

"Oh," said Bond, grinning. His foot snaked over to rub against Q's, skin warm despite the cool kitchen tile. "Those are good things to think about."

Q grinned back. "They are," he said. "I have, you know, tons of questions, but they're all for later, if ever. I have a lot more files to read that might answer them, among other things."

Bond nodded. "There's a lot of pointless data in some of the files," he said. His face grew hard. "Each monster has different limits about what he'll let them test."

Q swallowed, taking a sip of tea. "If I start to treat you like a specimen, just distract me with sex or something, please? I, I want to give the relationship a chance, not just for the sex."

That was the right thing to say; Bond's face lit up and his whole posture relaxed. "Well, then, best get back to enjoying my cooking. There's sweets for after."

"Not for before?" teased Q, rubbing his foot back over Bond's.

Bond leered. "It'll give you something to anticipate once I've worn you out."

Q laughed and snagged a last slice of bread, thinking he was just about as full as he'd need to be for the next event. He concentrated on the flavours, and on how much attention Bond must have paid to his preferences to be able to cater to them so readily. "How did you know what I liked?" he asked, gesturing to the mess of mostly-eaten curries on his plate.

Bond shrugged. "I honestly didn't do it on purpose, but once I thought about it, between dinner last night and previous observations, I just knew. I mean, I hoped I knew." He gave an almost-nervous laugh. "I expect a part of me's been planning to woo you all along."

"I suppose wooing is a thing you do," said Q, smiling as he chewed another bite of spicy spinach and creamy cheese. "I've never been wooed, so I shall have to try to appreciate it properly."

Bond took Q's free hand and kissed the back, then slid his mouth, just the plush lips with no tongue or teeth, along Q's index finger. He caressed from knuckle to tip, then back down along the side and inward, and finally he pressed a soft kiss to the sensitive centre of Q's palm. "I'll do my very best to make sure you enjoy every moment."

Q swallowed and nodded, skin alive and tingling with want. "I think it's time for the next bit, then," he said, voice hoarse. He downed the last of his milky chai and stood, hand still in Bond's.

Rather than protest about Q's uncleaned plate, Bond pulled him close and stood so their bodies were pressed flush, mouths hovering centimetres apart. "I think you're right," he murmured, and then closed the gap and kissed Q with erotic intent.

Bond coaxed Q's mouth open with little sipping kisses. His tongue slipped along the parted seam, leaving heat in its wake. Blunt teeth nibbled at Q's lower lip, a silent promise to keep his sharper attributes hidden away. He sealed their mouths together and his tongue flicked out, luring Q's into responding, not trying to do more than taste and tease. Q made a soft noise of desire and pressed closer, his free arm wrapping around Bond's neck, other hand still captured in Bond's.

Bond ended the kiss with a soft peck like a full stop, pulling back just enough to give Q a look at the brilliant blue of his eyes. 

"You have the most amazing eyes," blurted Q.

Bond grinned. "Yours are beautiful," he said. "I've put the leftovers away already, let's go. I'll deal with the dishes later."

Q felt a laugh bubble up inside him, and he kissed Bond while he giggled. "You've thought of everything, my monster."

"I've tried," said Bond. He bent and scooped Q up like a princess, annoyingly effortless as he carried his 'bride' through the house.

"I can walk, you know," said Q, but it was a feeble protest at best.

Bond laid him gently on the bed and kissed him affectionately. "You like that I can carry you," he said. He stripped the shirt off over his head and skinned out of his jeans, leaving him naked and gorgeous. He had surprisingly few scars given what Q knew about his history, though his left shoulder was still marred from Istanbul.

"I like that you can take care of me," Q admitted. "You'll have to teach me to take care of you, too."

Bond sat on the edge of the bed and kissed him again. "I will, but you need it more right now."

Q pulled him in for another kiss, hands roaming over his strong body, his own responding with a flush of heat. "I really do."

They stopped talking while Bond undressed him, hands deft where Q felt clumsy, undoing buttons and lifting hips for him. Q's clothing was soon discarded and Bond lay between Q's legs, a warm, comfortable weight. Both of them were hard and wanting, and their cocks kissed damply as they slid together, the wet heads peeking out of their foreskins to greet each other. Q groaned at the sensation, unable to resist reaching down to wrap a hand around Bond's cock, to feel for the first time another man's solid flesh in his palm.

Bond echoed the sound, voice hoarse. "I should've known you'd not be shy," he said, nibbling his way down Q's neck. His hand slid down to wrap around both their cocks, shifting Q's grip with it so they were both stroking themselves and each other, motions slicked by precome. "Want to come like this?"

"God, yes," gasped Q, already more than halfway there. He rutted and stroked shamelessly, letting Bond control their grip but too desperate to keep to his pace. He felt his toes curling and balls tingling, and he threw his head back and cried out as he spilled all over himself, their hands, and Bond's thick cock.

Bond growled and bit his neck, teeth blunt as promised, a delicious pain as he was shamelessly marked. "Mine now," he said, licking along Q's jaw to kiss him, still rutting in their slippery joined hands. It only took a few more strokes and he let go, groaning as he came, adding to the mess between them.

"Yours now," said Q, blinking away the warm feeling of contentment. He was far too used to going to sleep right after a good wank, but he didn't want this to be over nearly that soon. "But not all yours yet," he added slyly.

Bond kissed him deeply, body still undulating against Q's though he'd let their hands fall away. "Do you want me to have you today, Q?"

"Yes!" blurted Q, and then he laughed, the sound turning to a moan halfway through as Bond's hips gave a particularly lovely glide. "I really, really do."

Bond chuckled, low and sensual, and kissed him deeply. "You've got toys, don't you?" he purred.

Q felt his face heat, but he nodded. "I don't use them that much, but I really like it," he said, feeling unaccountably shy despite having seen Bond in all sorts of compromising situations. Including that video of him and 002 they'd deliberately let CCTV capture. Q squirmed. "There's lube in the drawer, do I need to, um, do anything else?"

"You're fine," said Bond, kissing him again. "I'll take care of you, love." He dipped his head down for another kiss, and then moved off Q, leaving him feeling cold and sticky. He fumbled in the drawer, finding not only the lube but Q's tub of baby wipes, which he used on both of them with a tender touch. "That's better, even though I liked you covered in me."

"I'm sure you'll fill me full of you instead," said Q, giving a little stretch. "Should I stay like this?"

Bond smirked. "You can stay like that for the rest of your life, if you like." He ran one warm hand down Q's body, palm and fingers in a firm, proprietary caress. "How flexible are you? I wanted to lick you before I have you."

Q's eyes went wide, and he had to swallow before he could answer. "I, um, how flexible do I need to be? Because yes."

Bond gave him a very heated look. "Can you pull your knees up to your chest and then spread them?" he asked.

Q's cheeks went hot again, but he did as Bond asked, folding himself in half and spreading his legs, exposing himself in a most embarrassing manner. The room was so well-lit he couldn't even pretend anything was hidden, cockhead glistening in the sparkling fairy lights, pink hole feeling as though it was under a spotlight. "Like this?"

"Exactly like that," said Bond. He laid himself back over Q, kissing him deeply, his cock teasing against Q's sensitive entrance. "I'll be able to have you just like this as soon as you're ready."

"Good, that, that's good," stammered Q, distracted by his own body in a way he was entirely unused to.

Bond slid down Q's body after one more kiss, laying on the bed with his face right between Q's legs. Those strong hands palmed Q's arse and pulled the cheeks apart, exposing him even more fully, and then his thumbs teased inward until they found his hole. Those, too, pulled him open, and Bond leaned in and licked, tongue touching Q in ways he'd only ever fantasised about. The pleasure was slick and strange and visceral, curling Q's toes and drawing a needy mewl from his mouth.

"Just like this," murmured Bond, each word a little puff of warm air over Q's wet entrance, and then he buried his face in Q's arse, tongue hard at work.

Q made himself stop analysing the sensations and just ride them. His hands stayed curled in the curve of his knees, his toes flexed in the air with no purchase to anchor him, his back and hips arched off the bed trying to get more of the slick pleasure of Bond's mouth. He wanted to watch, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to do more than throw his head back and make noises he would deny later, needy mewls and whimpers and whines. He felt another orgasm building and had no idea how to stop it, so he let it wash over him instead, Bond's tongue slipping inside him as his cock pulsed and spurted, hot come spattering over his chest and stomach.

Rather than stopping, Bond redoubled his efforts. His tongue slid in and out of Q's sensitive hole, licked around the rim, and then worked itself in even deeper. Q keened and writhed, unable to think of anything but how good it felt, and how much he wanted more of Bond inside of him.

Whether Q said something aloud or his body language gave him away, Bond responded readily enough by working a finger in with his tongue, and then two and three, still licking as he stretched Q open, far more patient than Q ever was with himself. Q's hips jerked when Bond brushed over his prostate, and his wordless cries turned to definite pleas.

"Are you ready?" asked Bond, three fingers still buried in him and his breath hot as it washed across Q's wet cock.

"Yes, fuck, so ready, please," Q babbled, tilting his hips up as much as he could manage, all of his earlier embarrassment forgotten in his desperate need to get Bond inside him.

Bond let out a sound suspiciously like a purr and licked once over the head of Q's cock, then slid up Q's body, hesitating only until he saw it was welcome before kissing Q properly. He slipped his fingers out and replaced them immediately with his slicked cock, hard and hot and big enough to make Q cry out with the stretch. It didn't hurt but he was so, so full. Q let go of his legs to wrap all around Bond, trapping his lover in a cage of clinging limbs.

"That's it, you're mine now," Bond murmured between greedy kisses, moving his hips slowly at first, getting Q used to the delicious sensations.

Even though it shouldn't have been too different from one of Q's toys, everything about being taken by Bond felt new. The weight of Bond's strong body on top of him, the comfort of having someone to hold and kiss, the feel of the cock inside him blood-hot and thrusting of its own accord; it all made anything he'd done alone pale by comparison. Q threw his head back, panting, riding Bond's cock and feeling human-blunt teeth marking his throat. 

"Mine, mine!" said Bond, hips going faster, thrusting harder. 

The sharp shock of their hips meeting stole Q's breath every time, so he couldn't do anything but pant and keen. The tingling was building again already, each tiny pleasure adding to the erotic tension building at the base of Q's spine. "Going, soon, oh, oh, please," Q managed, the last word turning into a yowl as the sensations peaked, Q spending himself completely as he clung and bucked and came.

Bond growled and thrust all through Q's orgasm, then let himself go, his cock feeling impossibly bigger as he found his own peak. Q shivered and tightened his body around Bond, getting another lovely growl and thrust of Bond's hips, a last pulse of pleasure for them both.

"You, never letting you out of this bed," said Bond, voice rough and low.

"That would get awkward," said Q, but he could feel himself grinning in the afterglow and totally ruining the sharpness he'd been trying to put in his tone. "That was, um, good. Very good."

Bond threw his head back and laughed. "It really, really was," he agreed, peppering kisses over Q's face, both of them panting and sweaty and an utter mess. "Good thing you still need a shower," said Bond, running his fingers through the come drying on Q's stomach.

Q made a face when Bond sucked on his fingers. "I would have even if I didn't, is sex always this dirty?" he asked, then kissed Bond anyway.

"Only when it's good," said Bond. "I can get much dirtier, if you like. Fancy a spanking?"

Q yelped when Bond gave his arse a pinch, and smacked him in the shoulder. "Cut that out. You're trouble, and I want a shower." He pushed rather ineffectually against Bond's solid shoulders.

Bond sighed and kissed him one more time. "I see how it is, one good shag and you're done with me." He pulled out anyway, leaving Q gasping at the loss and feeling terribly empty and just a touch sore.

"Nonsense," said Q, kissing him again and forcing himself to get out of bed. "Who else will wash my back?" He shot a flirty look over one shoulder.

Bond laughed and followed, catching him up in a kiss that took them all the way to the shower.

* * *

Q had a sneaking suspicion that Bond kept them locked up in the flat longer than necessary in order to enjoy their 'honeymoon' together, but after a week and a half of excellent sex several times a day, he couldn't bring himself to complain. Sitting in his kitchen with the cats eating their morning wet food, his flying monkey eating fruit salad, and his monster boyfriend cooking a full English breakfast, Q thought he'd never been more content.

"So," he said, toying with his coffee, "now that I'm yours, monster-yours, will I be able to stop lighting everything up all the time?"

Bond mmed thoughtfully. "You should be able to, but I won't make you. I don't need dark to sleep, and if I do need to visit the shadows I can always go outside." They'd agreed to move Bond into Q's flat rather than vice versa, and Andy had been making itself useful by retrieving a somewhat random assortment of objects from Bond's whenever it got bored.

"What about at work? I was thinking we might get Andy a pet bed there, so he can sound the alarm if he needs to," said Q.

"More darksofts?" said Andy, perking up interestedly.

"Where I work, yes, in my office," said Q. "You'd have to mostly stay hidden if you came with me, but I thought if you had your own shadow there, too, you'd be a better lookout."

"Might," said Andy with a shrug. "Cankeep."

"I think it's a good idea," said Bond, busily plating their food. "That way Andy can find me if there's an emergency at work, too."

"Useful," said Q, shooting Andy a grin.

The monster let out a little trill and settled happily in front of its bowl, fishing a chunk of brie out of its fruit salad. Bond had been having fun with finding new things it liked to eat, expanding the contents of their fridge as well as the residents' palates. Even the cats were being spoiled; Bond had discovered they liked plain roast chicken the night he decided to make one in Q's neglected oven.

A meal of eggs, toast, beans, tomatoes, mushrooms, and sausages was set in front of Q, the black pudding only on Bond's plate by request. "Drink your juice," said Bond, nodding to the glass of fresh-squeezed blood orange juice he'd given Q with his tea.

"Yes, dear," teased Q, but he did take a sip and found he liked it despite the rather lurid colour. "When do you think M will send you back out on assignment?"

"Soon. Things are heating up in Sri Lanka," said Bond, sitting down to start in on his own food, which was about twice as big as Q's. 

Q sighed. "I will miss the rigorous activity," he said, thinking of going back to his lonely, cuddle-free bed. "But I suppose I can't keep my very own Double-O agent forever."

"You'll be busy, anyway, you and I both know you're going to work late for days catching up after your involuntary vacation," said Bond, giving him a wry look. "Don't overwork poor Colin."

"I send him home on time and make my own tea after hours," said Q. He had another bite of beans on toast and sighed. "I'm going to miss your cooking as much as anything else, you know."

"No more yumyums?" asked Andy worriedly.

Q chuckled. "I can keep you in cheese and veg, don't worry," said Q. "I just can't cook like James, no more fancy yumyums."

"Ohhhh," said Andy, its interest clearly mostly in its stomach. "You gowork today?"

"Both of us," said Bond. "I'll pick up another cat cave at lunch, once M's had a chance to yell at me in person, and then you can come make it yours."

"Darksofts," it said, and went back to its breakfast with another little trill. It had grown more trusting as the days passed and no abuse was forthcoming. There hadn't even been any more monster incursions; apparently Bond's various warnings and other efforts had scared them off for good.

"Don't forget a blanket," said Q. "I should probably bring some yumyums for my fridge at work, too."

It trilled again, eyes half-lidded, looking round and soft and much more relaxed than when they'd first met. Q thought even its fur had filled out a little, less sparse but just as fine and soft as ever.

Q thought perhaps he had the same relaxed air, himself, finally rid of the constant worry that he was marginally insane, and content knowing he'd either been right all along or gone completely off the deep end. Either way, he was no longer likely to jump at shadows.

"Will you be back for the holiday?" asked Q, after a bit more attention to breakfast.

Bond mmed. "I don't usually put in for it, but I'll see what I can do. If I'm not in the middle of something time-sensitive, I can probably slip shadows back here for presents and Christmas kisses, if nothing else."

"If I make a shadow big enough," said Q with a chuckle.

Bond rolled his eyes. "I can slip back to mine or to Six, there's millions of shadows in London."

Q shivered. "Yeah, okay, I'm still not totally over that," he said.

Bond kissed him comfortingly, and they talked about small, domestic things like closet space and moving the rest of Bond's things. By the time everyone was done eating, Andy was full enough Q carried the drowsy creature back to its bed, the cats were already napping in Q's bed, and it was time to get ready and leave. Q let nostalgia wash over him as he looked at his brightly-lit flat and armed the alarm, locking them out and making sure James had his own keys on him.

The day at Six was just as tedious as expected, minus Bond's lunchtime arrival with sushi and Andy's new bed, complete with blanket. "I brought Colin some, too," said Bond, setting down the containers. "He's going to be very curious about the bed."

"He already thinks I'm a weirdo," said Q with a shrug. He got the bed arranged in a corner that would be quite dim when the decorations came down. "You said you can call Andy to you?"

"You might be able to, too, once he's kept the shadows here, too," said Bond. He pulled Q close for a kiss; they'd filed official relationship forms and the gossip was already flying, so Q saw no need to avoid public displays in his private office.

A meep from the direction of the doorway made Q turn, laughing when he saw it was Colin with a tray of tea. "Thank you, Colin, are you joining us?"

"You're really dating," said Colin, finding a spot for the tea tray. "I wouldn't be a third wheel?"

"I'm hardly going to shag him in his office," said Bond dryly. "He'd never give me anything that explodes after that."

"There's CCTV," Q reminded Colin. "A bit of smooching is the worst you're in danger of being exposed to."

Colin chuckled. "I don't object, really, it's just odd seeing your boss kissing, um."

"An assassin?" said Bond, hands busy getting the sushi divvied up between the three of them.

"I-I was going to say a Double-O, sir, but I suppose, erm, they're not that different," Colin puttered with the tea, looking shy and uncertain.

"Bond wouldn't dare risk my wrath by harming you, you know," said Q casually, coming around to get his portion of lunch. "None of the Double-Os would dare."

"He's right," said Bond with a chuckle. "Even before our romantic quarantine, I knew better than to risk offending Q by damaging his assistant."

"Oh," said Colin, laughing and rubbing the back of his neck. "Really, none of them?"

"Colin," said Bond seriously, "You make the tea."

"The maker of the tea is sacred," intoned Q. They all cracked up laughing, and the tension fell away enough for Colin to catch them up on the office gossip, as he'd spent the morning already catching Q up on work while Bond was being lectured and given an assignment.

The food and company were both excellent, and Colin wisely left them to share a few goodbye kisses before it was time to equip Bond and send him once more into the breach. Which Q did, lingering over the kissing part before he pulled away and sighed. "So, you can call Andy here somehow?"

"Oh, yes, where'd you put its cave?" asked Bond, stealing another kiss before he let Q show him the shadowy corner. Bond knelt down and put his hand inside and something shivered through Q's body. A familiar trill sounded, and Bond pulled his hand back out holding gently onto their pet.

"New darksofts!" said Andy cheerfully. "Minemine."

Q knelt next to Bond and stroked Andy's fur, then gave him a kiss on his forehead. "Just remember to hide if anyone's in here but me and James," said Q. "If you need to scarper from home, you can find me here to sound the alarm."

"Lookout," it said proudly. "Nosquish. Good."

Bond chuckled. "Good," he agreed, petting with his free hand. "All right, we have to work, so you hide here and keep the space, make sure you have safe travels."

"Saaafe," it trilled, letting Bond put it back into its new bed.

Q grinned and kissed him. "I'm actually sort of sad I can't show anyone my flying monkey," he said, standing up and dusting off his knees. "I'll have to get a list of everyone that's been read in, it's got to be more than you, me, M, and Moneypenny."

"Tanner," said Bond with a shrug, heading back to Q's desk. "A few more, any of the Double Os whose files you saw. None of the ones who aren't."

"All right, well, let me get you your extra-lethal tools, so you can be an efficient monster," said Q, giving him another sweet kiss. "Off to the armoury we go."

"You know the way to my heart," purred Bond, arm slipping around Q's waist. The affection had taken very little getting used to, in the end; as long as Q let himself, he loved every touch and kiss, and he'd observed that Bond seemed more relaxed when they were touching somewhere.

"Yes, and it's in your trousers," replied Q dryly, ignoring the looks they were getting as they walked through the decorated halls of Q-Branch. "I also know that no matter what I give you, you're going to make something explode."

They traded banter back and forth while Q issued Bond his usual gun and radio, plus a new, un-exploded watch, and his comm equipment. Once everything was in its proper place, Q tugged Bond into a CCTV blind spot and kissed him greedily. "Come back to me, James."

Bond held him close. "I've got something worth coming back for now," he said. "You stay safe, too. Andy can find me if any monsters try for you while I'm away."

"When you get back, we'll make some shadow at home for emergencies. Maybe in your clothes closet, that'll be about as yours as you can keep a space, right?" said Q, avoiding saying all the rest, voicing his worries about losing Bond when he'd only just found him.

"Yes, love, I can keep us safe," promised Bond. He kissed Q's hair and straightened up. "All right, off to Moneypenny for papers, and then I'll be out. I'm shadow-walking so I won't be on any airline records, but I'll contact you when I can."

Q sighed and kissed him one more time. "See you soon, love."

Bond grinned from ear to ear, slightly monstrous and yet sweeter than any pastry all the same. "See you soon."

* * *

After all that, Q reflected, it just bloody well figured he'd get kidnapped by ordinary human terrorists.

They grabbed him on his way to the Tube and shunted him out of London and into some dilapidated farmhouse that reminded Q a little bit of the destroyed Skyfall, all damp stone and old wood and the threat of mice. He almost laughed to think how terrified he'd have been to be put in the dark, dank root cellar, but that was before he'd had a monster of his own.

Q sat in the dark and listened to the shadows murmur, knowing they were considering whether he was prey, and he called softly, "Andy, Andy, I need you to find me and tell Bond where I am."

"We've got the phones jammed, it's no use," said the guard at the door.

Q ignored him. "Come on, little monster, I know it's a long way," he murmured. He'd only successfully called Andy to him twice so far, but they'd been practicing and he was much better motivated than having forgotten something at the flat. For that matter, he still didn't know of Bond could feel him, so he tried that as well. "Big monster, you're welcome any time now, yourself."

The rustling in the shadows grew louder, and Q felt the sickening shiver that presaged certain monsters. He fumbled one of his LED keylights out of his pocket, remember what Bond had said -- if they do come, the light would hurt them, drive them back. If they were that sort of monster.

"Come on, little monkey. Nosquish. Special yumyums for days," whispered Q. "Don't make me try to break myself out, It'll only embarrass us all."

The shivering feeling peaked, and a familiar trill preceded the feeling of warm, soft fur and a familiar weight in his lap. "Farfar," whispered Andy. "Knownow. Gottago." It licked over his knuckles, and then Q carefully launched it back into the dark, relief blossoming in his chest. Andy would find Bond.

The door creaked open, and Q just hoped it would be fast enough.

"Who are you talking to?" asked the guard, peering in.

Q bit his lip and tried to remember his old fear. "I don't like the dark," he said, trying to sound like the unsocialised nerd they seemed to think he was.

The man laughed. "Good," he said, shutting the door, cutting off the light again.

Q harrumphed, though he knew they were attempting to soften him up so he'd be cooperative. No one took someone like Q without an agenda; he was entirely the wrong sort of asset for a ransom demand.

"I could really use you soon, before I have to actually do whatever idiot thing they want me to do," whispered Q. He'd found a corner and put himself in it, already imagining how hard it would be to get the dirt out of his trousers. 

Q whispered and talked to himself quietly, occasionally using his light to examine his surroundings when his pretend fear started to feel less like pretence. He wasn't sure how much time had passed -- they had taken his phone and bag, though they'd left him most of his pocket things, including three different small keylights and a USB stick with a computer worm on it disguised as a lucky coin. 

Q played with the coin while he waited, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when fingers brushed against his arm, followed by the entirety of James Bond. Q fumbled with his keylight, but Bond put his hand over Q's, and there was a press of something like talons for a brief moment. 

"Give me a minute, that was a long way to walk in shadow," said Bond, his voice rough and strange. 

Q swallowed and curled his hand around Bond's, then brought it up to kiss the back. "Thank you for coming for me, love."

James kissed him, swift and fierce, mouth firmly closed. "You stay here with Andy," he said, depositing the small creature in Q's lap.

Andy crawled inside Q's jacket and trilled tiredly. "Loooongway."

"Go ahead and nap, pet," said Q getting it tucked securely against his body. "I'll wake you if you need to hold on."

"Six is on the way with evac," said Bond, kissing him again. "I'm just here to make sure nothing happens to you before then."

"Still talking to yourself, scaredy-cat?" said the guard at the door. "Putting on a little play now?"

"Are you going to feed me soon?" asked Q, ignoring his taunting. The air shivered and moved as Bond went to lurk by the door, melding with the shadows in some way that Q's logical mind still refused to examine too closely.

"Is the kitty hungry? I could bring you some milk," said the man, laughing roughly. "You're pretty as a girl, anyway."

"Rancid sausage is not to my taste," said Q.

The door rattled as the man's fist connected with it. "Your loss, scaredy-cat."

Bond sighed. "Hard way it is, then," he murmured, and did something, reached through the shadows, through the door, left Q in the little cell with their sleeping pet and put himself in the shadows on the other side instead.

There were sharp, violent sounds, another rattle of the door, and then silence. "Everything all right?" called Q.

"Yes, I'll let you out in a second. Ugh, you weren't kidding about rancid," said Bond. There was more rustling and then the door unlocked and light flooded in, welcoming this time. "Come on, love, I've got a gun for you. Let's get out of here."

"You say the sweetest things," said Q. He got up and dusted himself off as best he could. Andy shifted its grip without really waking, holding on tightly enough that Q wasn't too worried about losing it in the fray. He emerged to find the guard looking violently dead and more than a little terrified, which he found far more satisfying than he perhaps ought. "There's nine total that I've seen, implications of no more than fifteen, all armed."

Bond sighed. "I might need more bullets."

"I won't stop loving you if you have to kill them the old-fashioned way," said Q, stepping forward. He paused, cocking his head. "You might not get kisses until you've gargled, though."

Bond laughed. "I didn't really bite him. He smells rank," he said, pulling Q into another kiss, this one full of heat and tongue and human teeth. "But thank you for saying that."

"Yes, well, let's escape now, snog later, shall we?" said Q, blushing and a bit annoyed at the heat pooling in his belly, mixing unpleasantly the icy fear that he'd been ignoring quite successfully so far.

Bond laughed and kissed him one more time. "Rescue now, reward later," he said, before letting his smile fall away and growing serious. He put an ear to the door and listened, and then opened it slowly. The root cellar that was Q's prison was off a pantry that had served as a guard room. The pantry opened into the kitchen, which was cold and musty.

"Guess they're not big on cooking," whispered Q.

Someone came in through the back door carrying a huge box of supplies, and the violence began in earnest. The sound of gunfire brought down the rest of the house on their heads. Q used the stolen gun to some effect, while James used his Walther with deadly accuracy. When ammunition ran out, Bond used his other assets to protect Q and Andy, and himself to a lesser extent. By the time the sound of the rescue chopper reached Q's ringing ears, the entire group was dead or subdued, and Bond was busily figuring out their plans while Q stood, shellshocked, one hand idly stroking the monster clinging to his side.

Bond sent their pet home, giving it some sort of boost as it glided off into the shadows. Q immediately clung to him instead, needing the comfort of a familiar embrace.

"We'll be home soon, love," said Bond, unable to hide how pleased he was that Q still trusted him to snuggle with.

"Thank you for saving me," said Q. His hands trembled, so he hid them in Bond's suit jacket before the shaking could spread to his whole body.

Q blinked, and the room was full of personnel; there must have been more than one chopper.

"He's a bit shocky," said Bond, sounding faraway despite being up close. 

There was more conversation, things Q wanted to understand, but his world was narrowing rapidly to the sound of Bond's heartbeat and the warmth and solidity of his body. "I don't feel well," he whispered.

"We'll be home soon," said Bond. He scooped Q up into a princess carry and took him to the white chopper with the big red cross on the side, refusing to let anything part them. 

"You can set me down," said Q, meaning to sound cross, but his voice was thin and strange. Bond laid him out on the stretcher but held onto his hand while they checked him over.

"Looks like shock and dehydration, plus a bit of reaction from whatever they drugged him with on the Tube," said the medic. Many things were strapped down, not the least of which was Q, and the chopper started back up again, the sound filling Q's head.

"We'll have you home soon," promised Bond, and Q squeezed his hand as the chopper lifted off.

"I can't believe it was idiot terrorists," said Q, to distract himself from the distinctly unpleasant process of having an IV put in in a moving helicopter. "Not a proper monster in the lot."

Bond laughed. "Idiots who put you in the one place I'd be guaranteed to find you, even," he said, kissing Q's forehead.

Q smiled up at him and squeezed his hand. "You'd have found me anyway," he said, feeling the truth of it behind his breastbone like a warmth that spread through him, calming him. That might have also been whatever was in the IV, but he'd take it.

"Yes, I would," said James, kissing him softly.

Then a different warmth spread up his arm from the IV, and then Q was softly cocooned in cotton wool and darkness.

* * *

"Gotit!" said Andy, scampering into the living room with the package held high in its top two hands.

"You're a wonder," said Q, taking the box and pulling Andy close for a cuddle. "I can't believe we forgot this at Six."

Bond chuckled, shaking his head. They were surrounded by the detritus of Christmas morning, torn wrapping paper, strange and unusual gifts, sleeping cats and empty mugs. "It was a long time ago that I got this for you, I suppose it just didn't seem important anymore."

"Pish tosh, I want all my presents," said Q with a smirk. They'd allowed him to attend Q-branch's big gift exchange yesterday, but he was still officially on medical leave. Bond's gift had been shoved back under his tree in the office, forgotten in the rush for everyone to find what their Secret Santa had brought them.

"Well, go on then," said Bond, nodding to the present.

Q grinned. He untied the satin bow and opened the box, laughing when he looked inside. There was a rather nice snow globe of the London Eye, with a little sticker plastered to its side. "Lights Up!"

"You're mad," he said, pulling it out and getting the LEDs turned on. He shook it, and glittery snow fell through the miniature scene, refracting the light into smaller and smaller rainbows.

"You like it," said Bond. He curled around Q and gave him a long, sweet kiss. "You're going to put it somewhere on your shelves and secretly turn it on and shake it up when no one's looking."

"Maybe," said Q, pulling Bond in for another kiss. "But I don't need as many lights now that I've got you."

**Author's Note:**

> Familiar OCs are familiar, but only briefly mentioned (sorry, Colin!). In fact, I'm sorry about a lot of things in this fic, but you know how it is. Sometimes you just have to write a fic with a flying monkey monster in it. Needs must.
> 
> Half of love is just lo: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PKffm2uI4dk
> 
> I'm amysnotdeadyet on tumblr, if this has given you the strange urge to see more of me.


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